Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave
by Little-Arlis
Summary: My first Spidey fanfic. Set in movieverse after Spiderman 2 (so contains spoilers). Peter's junior year of college brings a strange new sophomore transfer student that just might turn Spiderman's world upside down. (Rated for violence, language, etc)
1. College Days

Disclaimer: Spiderman belongs to Marvel comics, etc. New York City belongs to...New York State, I think. But Patricia Tournell belongs to me. Not that anybody else would want her...XD  
  
Author's Note: Okay. This is set in movie-verse, after the second movie. So, yes, this contains spoilers. If I screw up any characters, please tell me because I'd hate to ruin such a great movie/comic/cartoon with my crappy writing. Rated for violence, a bit of oddness that's just...strange...and a bunch of internal conflicts/angst.  
  
Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave  
  
Chapter 1: College Days  
  
The college campus was always busy the first week of school. How couldn't it be? With students running around trying to find classes, new students getting adjusted, old students showing superiority, the campus made for a difficult field to navigate. But in the midst of all this sat Peter Parker on a wooden bench. This was his third year now. Strange how this had all gone so fast. It seemed like yesterday that that spider that changed his life and bore Spiderman had bitten him. Though he had tried to give Spiderman up, the web slinger had wheedled back into his life once more. And after a near-fatal meeting with Doctor Octopus, he had begun to see just how serious being a superhero could be. But none of that really mattered. None of it except for Mary-Jane Watson. Oh, how he loved her. They were getting married soon, of course. But it raised some questions. Would there be any sure way of protecting her? Of making sure that no harm could come to the soon-to-be Mary-Jane Parker? Of course not. Life was uncertain, and Spiderman's was no exception.  
Before Peter plunged into a whole other train of thought, he was brought to reality by the sound of somebody falling and dropping books, and being kicked by the passerby. He quickly stood up and strode to the victim, finding a girl on all fours doing her best to gather books through the legs and feet of the crowd she had tripped into.  
Of course Peter ran in, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her out of the mass. He looked to her, surveying her face briefly. She was a bit younger than he, most likely by only a year or so. Her face was pretty, but her coloration was rather distinctive. Peter wondered where she had gotten her contacts and hair dye. But that aside, he looked to the underclassman in his arms. "Hey, you alright?"  
The girl hopped down and drew back, holding her left arm in her right hand so the underside of her arm was visible to only her. Nobody else noticed the scrape near her wrist. But then, nobody noticed when the skin around it bubbled and seeped together, erasing the scrape from existence. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." She brought her now healed arm into her chest, as if protecting it.  
He eyed her almost skeptically, as if checking the roots of her hair. "Where'd you get the hair dye?" Then, he looked at her eyes. "And the colored contacts? Which one's your real eye color?"  
The girl brought her chin into her chest, and nearly glared up at him. "Nice to meet you too. And I'll let you in on a secret." She grabbed his shoulders and stood on her toes so her nose brushed his. "This." Her right hand combed through her auburn hair. "Is natural. And this." Her left hand ran down the silver streak that framed the left side of her face. "Is something every woman on my mother's side is born with naturally. And." She pulled back and pointed to her left hazel eye. "This is my natural eye color." She then pointed to her right blue eye. "This one's natural too. Characteristic of the family on my father's side."  
Peter could only blink. "Wow...well, sorry. Guess it's not a great foot to start on." He held his right hand out for a shake. "I'm Peter. Peter Parker."  
The girl arched an auburn brow, and held her right hand out tentatively. "Patricia Tournell, but everybody calls me Patty." The two shook hands, and Patty withdrew hers rather quickly. "Well, Mr. Parker." Her eyes darted to her books, where the crowd had now disappeared. "It's been nice to meet you, but I have some books to pick up and a class to catch." She turned on her heel and now that the crowd had vanished, stoop to quickly grab her books and hug them to her chest. Her hair was rather short and unruly, and wisped about her face as she moved, and ultimately left.  
Peter stared in the vacant spot where Patty's books had been. She was strange, but not just strange. There was something about her not right. Something a little sick perhaps. But he'd never know. It's not like he could walk up to her and say, "Hi. Remember me, Peter? Well, I'm Spiderman too, and my spider senses are telling me that there's something wrong with you. Mind telling me what it is?" Oh that'd make for lovely conversation. He sighed and shook his head, and walked off to his own class without so much as another thought towards this Patty girl. 


	2. College Nights

Disclaimer: I own everything Spiderman related. Okay, not really. I own nothing. NOTHING I tell you!  
  
Author's Note: Well, guess I'd clear this up now. Patty and Peter are NOT going to fall in love or something dumb like that. I didn't create this character to add to the collection of perfect Mary-Sues who win the superheroes and drive them away from their canon lovers (though she is pretty Mary-Sueish...DAMNIT). Just so you know. -;; Erm...yeah. Not to knock people who do that, but just so y'all know that I don't intend to make this a strange romantic cesspool. UPDATE! Since I'm a neurotic freak, I re-uploaded this chapter to change the color of Mary Jane's eyes to their right color, green (thank you, reviewer who pointed this out).  
  
Chapter 2: College Nights  
  
The door screeched behind Peter as he entered his apartment, and he sighed. Spiderman had been busy that night, as it was now 9:30, several hours later than he normally returned home. With one hand, he pitched his backpack into the darkness of his apartment. With the other, he groped for the light switch. One click brought soothing light into the tiny room, and Peter blinked once as his eyes adjusted. But there was something in the room that wasn't always there.  
Spider sense prompted Peter to leap upwards and wedge himself in between two ceiling beams. A rustling in the adjacent room caused the young man's skin to slick over with cold sweat. Who was in his apartment, and why? Could Harry be seeking revenge? Would he have to fight his best friend?  
"Peter?" The small form of a certain redhead caused Peter's racing pulse to slow down, and he found that he could now breathe. "Peter? I heard you come in...where are you?" Her clear green eyes searched the room as one of her creamy-white hands clutched the front of her light blue hastily thrown on robe.  
Peter smirked lightly, and silently attached a webbing anchor to the ceiling and leaned upside-down, and lowered himself so he was now face-to- face with the lovely Mary Jane. His clear eyes stared into hers, searching them. She was up to something, and he didn't need spider sense to know it. "Hey, MJ. What brings you here at this time of night?"  
Mary Jane shook her head slowly, laughing lightly. "I've been waiting for hours, Pete." Her eyes glimmered beneath a few strands of red hair that had fallen before her face.  
Peter cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And just why have you been waiting?"  
The young woman laughed musically, and stepped closer to the web slinger. "I was waiting for you, Pete. I thought that Spiderman was tired, and he could use a little refresher. And I knew that Peter Parker could use a night away from his books..." The redhead took Peter's face in her hands, and kissed him passionately in the way that she had kissed him those few years ago.  
  
Patty groaned as she stood in front of her small house. It was quite embarrassing to the young woman that she still lived with her parents. But her father wouldn't let her move out, and the first time she suggested it to her mother the poor woman fainted. So she was stuck here in a small 2- story house on the outskirts of New York City. It was 10:15, much later than her usual returning time.  
Her steps were slow and swaggering as she weakly opened the door, and winced as the hinges screamed. She'd have to oil them soon. But for now, she was occupied with finding the light switch in the darkness. Her family had gone to bed, with good reason. It was a Wednesday night; her 17-year- old brother had school the next day, her mother had to report into the office at 8:00 the next morning like always, and her father had Oscorp. Her feet weaved a broken path through the front foyer, and she snapped the light off as she left (there were two light switches in different locations for the same light) and stumbled up the narrow staircase. It bent back on itself, which caused her backpack that was now being dragged on the floor by one strap to slam into the wall as she attempted to change direction.  
After what seemed like an eternity, Patty reached her dark bedroom. Her right hand dropped her backpack so it could join her other hand in a sharp clap, which activated the clap-on light on her nightstand at the far side of the room. The light washed over the room, bathing a strange figure sitting on her bed in a pale glow. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad..." The groan was long and pained, the voice of an angsty 15-year-old. "What are you doing in here?" She listened for his answer as she picked up her backpack and threw it in a chair, and began removing her coat.  
"Well. I was thinking." He leaned forward; his glimmering eyes were just like hers, save for his left was dark chocolate brown. The scientist pushed a hand back through his once light brown, now graying hair. "I need to do some more tests tonight." He motioned to the large gash that had sliced through the left-side shoulder of her T-shirt; the surrounding material was soaked in dark blood. "You need some boosters. Maybe if I make the formula stronger..." He mused.  
"No, dad. I don't need boosters, I don't need a stronger formula. I need you to just leave me be!" Her coat was thrown on the chair over her backpack, and she was now facing him with fury in her oddly colored eyes.  
"Patty. I am your father, and this is the best thing for you. Now." He ignored her eyes rolling in a clockwise direction, and her mouth opening for her to argue. "How did you get that gash?"  
"I was mugged on my walk home." She stressed the word walk, insinuating that she needed a car.  
But her father ignored that. "Uh-huh...so what happened?"  
Patty clenched her jaw and tightened her fists. She didn't feel like talking about this at now 10:25 at night. "I was walking. This guy clapped his hand over my mouth from behind and dragged me into an alleyway. He met with two buddies. They pinned me against a wall, feeling the pockets of my coat and pants. When that was done and they found nothing on me, they began trying to undress me. So I fought back." She shrugged.  
"Uh-huh. Did you get any other injuries?" He was intrigued now, dying to hear about how his work was operating.  
"A bunch of bruises and scrapes, and little cuts from the knife they pulled on me. But those all healed. Except for this one." She shrugged, but winced as her left shoulder moved. "Now. If you'll excuse me, I think it's slowly healing. Give it time. I'm going to bed." She muttered and crossed the room to her walk-in closet, and disappeared inside.  
"Patty." Her father nearly shouted. "You're hurt. This booster will help you, just come on. It's for science."  
Patty's angry face appeared as the door opened. She hadn't yet started changing, so she just put her hands on her hips. "Everything's for science, isn't it, Dad?"  
"Yes. Please. This will help you. I promise." His eyes spoke clear truths in many mediums as they practically pleaded to his daughter.  
Patty sighed. "Okay, okay, OKAY!" She grudgingly left her closet and started out the door, with her nearly giddy with joy father. As the two left, the man clapped his hands and the bedroom was plunged in darkness equal to that in the hallway and throughout the rest of the house. 


	3. Morning Glories

Disclaimer: I own Spiderman's soul. No not really. Marvel has that honor.  
  
Author's Note: Thanks to those who reviewed! You make my day! I hope this doesn't become boring, so if it starts lacking something PLEASE speak up. I really appreciate it! Thank you all so much, and I'm so glad you read this. - And I really apologize for writing so much more on Patty, etc right now. I'm trying to set things up, and I swear y'all will wonder what the hell I'm thinking if I don't start the stuff now. So please hang in there. It will start getting interesting soon. Thanks!  
  
Chapter 3: Morning Glories  
  
A curtain of short auburn hair hid the face of a very unhappy young woman. She muttered to herself as she stared into a mirror through her hair curtain, and grabbed a brush off her desk without looking. The brush's bristles raked through her hair, smoothing it out somewhat. Silver stayed prominent by the left side of her face, giving her ghostly morning complexion a bit of glow. But she still looked like she belonged in a grave rather than standing in her room now.  
Her steps were unsteady and floppy as she reached her closet. She disappeared inside, and emerged in a pair of relaxed jeans and an off-the- shoulder dark red long-sleeved shirt, and a light grey thick-strapped tank top under the first shirt.  
The young woman slouched and dragged herself and her backpack to the kitchen table, where she let her backpack drop listlessly to the floor. Her sneakered feet shuffled across the tiled floor until she could reach the kitchen counter. Hands worked slowly to find the frosted flakes and pull them to the counter and pour some of the little flakes into a white bowl. As they sat, she plunged a large spoon in the middle of the flakes and shuffled to the fridge, where she threw the door open and captured the milk. It was just a pour away that her cereal was drenched in the alleged moo-juice. Then it was back into the fridge for the milk, and the door closed on it. She grabbed her bowl and spoon, and began stabbing at the cereal with her blunt weapon. Flakes broke in half and crumbled, and then were sucked into Patty's too-tired-to-form-words mouth. The young woman plopped down at her family's table, beside her backpack, and lazily ate her cereal. It was only 7:15 now, and she didn't need to be at classes for another hour and fifteen minutes.  
Dr. Tournell practically waltzed into the room, so pleased with the night before's work. He grinned at his only daughter and clapped her on the back. "Quite a night, eh Patty?" His eyes glimmered as he began boiling a pot of coffee. His hair was combed, his attire was nice, and he was ready to go.  
Patty muttered into her spoonful of frosted flakes, and glared up at her father. "Honestly. Why the fuck do you drink coffee if you're this damn perky without it?"  
Her father sighed. He had gotten used to Patty's language. The training and shots had seemed to endow her with a small bit of Tourette's Syndrome. Oh, yes. He had noticed her growing irritability, her muttering and facial twitching. Dr. Tournell was a scientist, after all. Who would think he wouldn't pay close attention to his own work?  
Patty rolled her eyes. He expected some other response to his comment in the form of a question. "Yeah. It was some night. Some night that kept me up until 4 o'-fucking-clock in the morning!" She slammed her hand on the table while her other spooned some frosted flakes into her mouth.  
Dr. Tournell winced. Though generally calm, cool, and collected, Patty was lately getting more and more prone to outbursts and spurts of anger. Could there have been an uncalculated side effect to what his experiments? No. Dr. Tournell would never miscalculate. He would be right. Patty was fine, just going through some stress. "Yes, I'm sorry, honey, but who has time for time when you've got science?" He smiled sunnily and poured some coffee into his large mug.  
Patty growled. "Well, Dad, I happen to have other things to bother with. I, unlike you, do not have a lifetime to dedicate to science, and I sure as hell can't give you my entire life for your science experiments!"  
He sighed. "Pumpkin, I know. But we're so far into this. There's no going back now."  
"I know, dad. I know..." Her voice was distant for a moment, as if it came from a completely different Patty. Vision blurred and staring into space, Patty suddenly shook her head and shoved a spoonful of flakes into her mouth. "Well, I have to finish this. I don't want to collapse from fatigue today." She muttered vilely and downed another spoonful of cereal.  
But both Tournells knew very well that Patty would never collapse from fatigue. She had too much in her. There was so much strength, stamina, and science running through the young woman's blood that there was no way she could ever give up and plop down.  
Dr. Tournell nodded with a grunt, and sipped some coffee. And so ended the discussion in the Tournell kitchen.  
  
Peter stretched his arms lazily, the blaring of his alarm clock piercing through his right ear and scrambling inside his brain. His right hand slammed on the "off" button, and he looked to his left. Mary Jane was sleeping still. Her hands were tucked under her chin, and her earnest face was tilted towards him, calm as an angel's. His heart throbbed at the sight of her. It nearly swelled with love and passion, such feelings he wasn't sure he could feel before. But here they were, racing in his throat and causing his hands to quiver. It was for Mary Jane. It would always be for Mary Jane.  
Finally, the collage boy sighed. Though he would wait eternity for her, time would not. He had to get dressed and ready for classes now, as it was 7:30 and his first class started in an hour.  
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and hopped down, clad only in a pair of white boxers. Peter meandered to his closet and pulled on a white collared button-down shirt and khaki slacks, and dark brown shoes. Brushing his teeth as he walked, he drifted to the small kitchen of his humble apartment. He spat into the sink and tossed the toothbrush to the side, and opened a cabinet. A box of cheerios looked him in the eye, and he grabbed it.  
The small wheat o's plunked into his dark green plastic bowl, and protested as Peter drowned them in milk. To top off his cheerio massacre, he stuck a spoon in beside them, cutting a few innocent cheerios in half. He was oblivious to their screams, however, as he grabbed a slightly dirty glass from his other cabinet and filled it to the brim with milk. Soon, the milk jug was in the closed fridge. He grabbed his cereal and milk, and plopped down to his modest table and dug in. 


	4. Broken Backpacks

Disclaimer: I own nothing. No, really.  
  
Author's Note: Woot! Thanks again, guys! I'm so glad y'all like it. I really hope I don't disappoint any of you...so please tell me if it starts getting crummy. Thanks, and enjoy! Oh, and I hope you guys liked the cereal descriptions in the last chapter. They were so fun to write. Hehe...killing cereal.  
  
Chapter 4: Broken Backpacks  
  
8:15 brought most of the college students flocking to campus for 8:30 classes. Those lucky few who didn't have class until later were still asleep, though that group did not include Peter and Patty. The two were trying to elbow through separate crowds to get to their classes. After a few minutes, each one was getting frustrated. So it was a strange turn of fate that the next people they would elbow would be each other. Patty stumbled into the back of a short blonde senior, while Peter stumbled forward into her. The two blinked, and Peter drew back sharply. "Sorry." He looked around, not even noticing that Patty was the girl he had spoken with the day before. If he had taken more than an eighth of a second to look at her, he would have recognized the hair and eyes since she was the only student at the university who looked like that. But Peter was not paying attention, and Patty was not in a mood to know people, and she didn't recognize Peter at all. The two merely grunted apologies and elbowed through the crowds once more, like their encounter had never happened.  
Ten minutes later, a tired and somewhat sore Patty stumbled into the lecture hall where her class was about to start in five minutes. Too tired to take her favored spots in the back, she found the closest empty seat and plopped down in it. She set her backpack beside her on the left, and unzippered it so she could grab some paper and a pen. But the bag wouldn't be agreeable this morning, and tipped over on its right side, so all the contents spilled out. She bit her tongue to keep from swearing, and bent over her right side to grab the pencils and other objects that were rolling away under the person's chair next to her.  
Peter heard a backpack fall, and turned to his left and leaned over to help pick the contents up. He had meant to help, and ended up coming face-to-face with Patty. He pulled back sheepishly. "Sorry." But then he stopped. He had seen those eyes and that hair before. "Hey...I met you before, didn't I?" He sat up straight and turned towards her, fingers to his lips in thought. "Hmmm...where have I seen you..."  
Meanwhile, Patty was struggling to pick up the lost contents of her backpack, and after a few moments succeeded in the task. She then set the bag up straight and pulled out several white-lined sheets of paper and a black pen. Her eyes slid over to Peter, who was still racking his brain for when he met her. "Erm...hello?" She was fully puzzled now, and just a bit frustrated.  
"Oh." He looked squarely at her. "Oh! Now I remember!"  
Patty arched an eyebrow. "Remember...?"  
"We met each other yesterday. You had dropped your books."  
Patty blinked, but then it registered. "Oh, yeah. The pull-me-out- of-a-crowd guy. Yup, now I remember it."  
Peter wasn't sure if her comment was supposed to be a compliment, insult, or just a comment. But he didn't think about it. "Strange how we'd end up sitting next to each other in a class of..." He looked around at the hordes of students buzzing about and sitting down in the large lecture hall. "Oh...two hundred?" He grinned goofily, and whipped out a few sheets of paper and a blue pen.  
Patty laughed lightly. Her laugh was very thin, and sounded like it hadn't been used in a long time, so it was marred by cracks and little strains that were soon swallowed up by the noise of the lecture hall. "Yes, strange indeed." She then looked about the hall to see for herself, and was astounded by what her eyes perceived. After data was collected, the young woman sat straight in her chair and wrote her name, the date, and the class name on the top of her paper.  
Now that was odd. Few students started setting their notes up before the professor got in. But following a small surge of spider sense, Peter did the same. Sure enough, the bald professor strode in seconds later. As the man began setting up his own notes and drank a sip of water from the glass he had carried in, Peter looked briefly towards Patty. Had she known the professor was going to come in, or was that just some behavior that she had been imprinted with since grade school? Well, the professor had already started talking, and everybody else was busy taking notes and setting up their papers. So Peter turned to his paper and began scribbling down notes about genetic variances. He smirked to himself. He knew a good bit about genetic variances already. What with that mutant spider and whatnot. The young man nodded. Yes. Genetic variances were also called mutations. Just as the professor stated, he wrote it down.  
Patty chewed her lip. Were the experiments changing her genetic makeup? Was she really being twisted into something no longer human? Could it be possibly that she was being warped beyond her parents' gene pool? A disguised answer came when her lip was chewed through, and a drop of blood fell on her notes. Just as that happened, Patty touched the thin fingers of her left hand to her lips. There were no cuts; her lip was perfectly fine. Patty sighed. Humans didn't heal on a dime. She was different. She had been made different. She was a lab-created freak with no real purpose. But all that would change someday. Patty was determined to make something of these extra abilities she had been given. Not that the young woman knew what she was going to do, but she knew she was going to do something.  
Well, the lecture dragged on. After the second hour, the professor announced a ten-minute break. Since this was the first meeting of the class, the professor wanted to give them a complete overview, along with his opinions on every single facet of this class. And that took a long time.  
At the mention of a break, students leapt to their feet and fled the room to raid the snack and soda machines. It was 10:30, late enough to start cramming your body with junk food and soda. Patty shook her head slowly at the ruckus made to leave, and just stayed put. It was still too early to move when it wasn't completely necessary.  
Peter leaned back in his chair, stretching his back, and put his arms over his head to stretch them as well. He was getting pent up sitting around for so long, even though he didn't mind it. But his muscles starting pleading for a swing around New York. He grinned. Spiderman would come out to play later.  
The two collage students looked to each other simultaneously. Peter was the first to speak. "What do you think of the lecture so far?"  
Patty nodded, as if her insecure thoughts were trying to cloud her tongue. "It's interesting."  
"Yeah. I love the sciences."  
Patty's upper lip curled. She had been injected with science until she thought she was going to throw up blue. But she couldn't tell anybody else that. She merely nodded aloofly. "Science is very interesting. But I prefer history. It always repeats itself."  
Peter laughed. "Well, that's a secure subject."  
Patty's eyes widened, and she brought her left arm into her chest as if clutching it. "Yes...yes it is."  
Before Peter could question her, the professor cleared his throat. "Okay. Now that the break's over, we can continue." Students filtered into the hall, and many groans were heard. Peter shrugged and turned to his notes, and Patty to hers.  
Two more hours dragged on and filled the room with the scratching of pens, tiny whispers, and bored daydreams. But finally the professor cleared his throat for the last time that day, and shuffled his notes. "Well, thank you all for being so attentive. I'll see you next class. 


	5. Lunch Plans

Disclaimer: Please don't sue me. I know I own nothing.  
  
Author's Note: Wow! Thanks guys! I'm so glad you like it still. And thanks, Seashell, for the sweet comment! And I've read my share of movie script fanfictions, and I try to steer clear of it. I definitely see where you would be bugged by the "muscles ached to swing about New York City and he grinned" part. It was a little random. I'll keep that in mind and try and stick with Peter's character more. whacks self And on with the chapter! Oh...and I have italics in here. If they don't work, I'm sorry. doesn't like me. --;;  
  
Chapter 5: Lunch Plans  
  
One would have thought a bomb had been detonated. The students all stood up and bolted from the lecture hall, some even tripping over their own excited feet. Soon, the hall filled with blabber of lunch plans and rest plans, and friendly banter between tight-knit groups.  
Patty stuffed her notes and pen unceremoniously into her backpack, and then stood to swing it over her shoulder. Without a backward glance, she pushed her chair in and began to stride away. Thank God this thing is over. I thought I was gonna die of boredom. She muttered to herself and shook her head as if trying to ward off a fly, and made her way for the door.  
Peter had made sure his notes were in the right binder before shoving them in his bag and swinging it over his own shoulder and walking away. But his eyes found Patty again. He didn't know many students at college, even though this was his third year. So as of now, the closest thing he had to a college friend was Patty. The young man quickly found Patty's side, and he walked along with her through the hallway outside the lecture hall they had just exited. "Hey. I was wondering, would you want to go get some lunch?" He looked over at Patty, and for a minute she was extremely hard to read.  
The young woman fixed Peter with a semi-blank stare. She didn't know anybody there. Then again, nobody there wanted to know her, and that was often the way she liked it. But she couldn't always come across as the frigid bitch of the class. Okay...why the fuck not? She attempted a smile, which ended up being a pitiful little twisted line of her lips. "Sure."  
Peter cracked a smile as well. "Okay. Cool. So...do you have another class today?"  
"No. And if I did, I'd have to strangle myself. After the four hour lecture we just went through, I'd be afraid to set foot in another lecture hall for the rest of the day. You have another stretch of monotonous words to endure?"  
Peter gave a short laugh. "Yeah, amen to that." At her question, he had to take a second to realize just what the hell she meant. "Oh, another class?" He laughed again. "Nope."  
Patty nodded, her twisted smile faded now. "Well that's good. It's comforting that the only person I know in this place isn't going to go into a too-many-lectures induced coma." She let out a quick, sharp laugh that caused those around her to jump and look about warily, nervous now.  
Peter chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't want to go into a coma either." But something almost disturbing hit the back of his mind. If he went into a coma, who would help those Spiderman had to protect? He had seen the chaos that reigned when he had decided to quit the superhero business. What would happen to New York if Peter were suddenly rendered unable to help them? Though he may not always like it, he was bound to it. He shook his head quickly. Best not to think about it.  
Patty had looked at Peter carefully while he was immersed in thought. Something was weighing on this young man's mind. What it was, she couldn't say. "That's a healthy way of thinking. You wouldn't want to be the one who dreams for a coma."  
At that last comment, Peter gave the odd-eyed young woman a strange look. There was definitely something not quite right about her. But who was he to judge, seeing as he was the one who swung about New York City in spandex, not her. "Yeah. True." He nodded as if he understood, and that seemed to satisfy her.  
"Of course." She answered, and looked around. "So, Mr. Parker, where are we going to eat?" Patty seemed itching to change the subject.  
And of course, Peter was grateful for the change. "I don't know. What are you in the mood for?"  
"Hmmm...well..." A hazel and a blue eye both worked together to scan the streets of New York that Patty and Peter had both just stepped out into. "I really don't care. What kind of stuff do you have around here?"  
Peter looked at her for a second as if she were crazy. "I think the question would be, 'What kind of stuff don't you have around here?' We have everything."  
Patty smirked. "Oh, really? Do you have gently sautéed frogs' legs boiled to a soft simmer in a bath of butter with a side of fresh parsley and hand-picked garden salad?"  
Peter blinked. "Erm...well...maybe not that...would you want a cheeseburger?"  
Patty threw her head back and laughed. A sharp, piercing, barking laugh that ended with her eyes glittering and trained on him. "I was kidding, of course. But yeah, a cheeseburger sounds good."  
And with that, the two made their way through the bustling streets of New York City to find an acceptable cheeseburger joint. 


	6. Cheeseburger Joint

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  Really.  Don't sue me please.   Author's Note: First off... glomps Jolly Jeff   Squeak!  Thank you SO much for telling me how to work thisthingie.  And yes...I should have read the directions...it seems my step-father is rubbing off on me.  Hehe But when I tried to use the html format, started messing with it and removed about half the story. X.x;; So...I'll have to work on that. I'm SO sorry this took me so long.  Life intervenes with fanfic writing.  Sorry again.  
  
        Chapter 6: Cheeseburger Joint  
  
               The interior of the burger joint the two college students had settled on was thick with cigarette smoke and the distinct tang of ale, even this early in the day.  The two had sat down in a booth set against a dark wooden wall.  There was a stuffed and mounted blue-fin tuna on the wall a few feet above the table.  Patty eyed the fish skeptically as she sat down, almost afraid that the fish's bulged-out eyes would pop from its head and fall into her root beer that the overweight waitress with a mole on her left nostril had set in front of her.  
        Peter looked around with a smile.  "Well.  This alright?"  
           Patty looked up from mashing a sugar packet with her fork.  "Huh?  Oh.  Yeah, this is great.  Thanks.  I can't remember the last time I just went out with a friend and had lunch.  Then again, I can't remember the last time I really had a friend."  She smiled lightly.  
         Peter laughed and nodded.  "I know what you mean.  Before MJ, I"  He was cut off by Patty interrupting, a playful spark in her eyes.  
            "MJ?  Hmm...what does this stand for?"  
            Peter's cheeks hinted at a faint pink.  "Mary Jane."  
            "Oooh..."  Patty sounded much like an annoying younger sister.  "Your girlfriend?"  
            "Erm...well...kind of..."  Peter's blush darkened, and he tugged at his shirt collar as if he were stifling in the non-existent heat.  
            Patty tilted her head.  "What do you mean, kind of?"  She sucked on her straw, slurping root beer into her mouth before speaking again.  "Either she is, or she isn't."  
            "Well, she's what you could say an advanced girlfriend...she's my fiancée."  Why was he so reluctant to tell Patty this?  He wasn't sure, but something told him that Patty shouldn't know about Mary Jane.  
            "Awwww...that's cute."  Patty was almost a different person now.  It was rather strange.  "Well good for you, Peter.  That's just great."  And she sounded like she meant it, too.  "So, when are you guys gonna get married?"  
            Peter was really getting antsy now.  "Erm...I'm not quite sure yet."  
            "Oh.  Fair enough."  She shrugged, and took another slurp of her root beer, ending that conversation.  
            Peter couldn't have been more relieved.  "So...you seeing anybody?"  He smiled impishly, having spun the question around and back at Patty.  
            For a moment, Peter thought he had broken her by the way she just stared at him.  Then, suddenly, the girl threw her head back and laughed coarsely.  She then looked at Peter, still laughing, and finally wound down.  "Me?  With a boyfriend?  Oh, that's rich."  
            "I take that as a no...?"  Peter eyed her oddly.  Maybe she just didn't swing that way.  
         As if she read his mind, Patty snappily replied, "And I'm not a lesbian.  I just...haven't had time for a boyfriend."  She seemed rather defensive about the subject, and quickly opted to change it.  "So.  What do people around here do outside of school?"  
            "Erm..."  Peter's mind flashed to web-slinging around the city, beating up criminals, watching Doctor Octopus build his second and most powerful machine, and working.  "Work?  Hang out with friends?"  
           Patty cocked an eyebrow.  "Are you sure that's all?"  
          Flying high, blood in his mouth, sweat on his back, adrenaline through his veins, the blood in his body rushing through him as he jumped from building to building at midnight.  "Yeah.  That's all."  He smiled, hoping she'd change subject soon.  
           But luckily, nobody had to change the subject because the waitress came.  "So what do you two want?"  She looked rather grumpy, and pulled out a pencil and pad of paper and glared at Patty.  
           "I'll have the double cheeseburger."  
            "And I'll have the triple cheeseburger."  
           The waitress nodded, looking at the two strangely for a moment before walking off, and barking the order at the chef, who was drenched in sweat and grease.  
            Patty laughed.  "Little hungry today, are we?"  
            "Well, long lectures do that to you, as you've also demonstrated."  
            Patty laughed again.  "Sure seems like it."  She took another sip of her root beer and looked past Peter out the large windows at the front of the restaurant.  Cars buzzed by in a hurry.  Everybody was always in a hurry here in New York, she figured.  There was nobody just sitting around doing nothing, except the men in here that were getting drunk at the ripe time of 1:00.  Patty began drumming her fingers nonchalantly on the table, still staring out the window.  She wasn't sure anymore about what she was staring at.  A few old people passed the windows, and then a few young people.  Some thugs passed, and Patty noticed something familiar about them.  But it wasn't until the tallest's face was shaded partially by the overhanging eves of the restaurant that Patty recognized where she had seen them; they were the guys who had attacked her the night before.  She winced slightly, looked over at the shoulder that had been wounded in the struggle.  The booster shot had increased her healing rate again, which several tests had proven.  But she was still apprehensive.  So far, there were no apparent side effects, and science was all about the side effects.  When would they show up...?  
           Patty was jerked from her thoughts by Peter waving a hand in front of her face.  "Hello?  Earth to Patty, over."  He laughed lightly as Patty shook her head violently, and fixed him with a curious stare.  "You were spacing out."  
           "Oh.  Sorry."  She muttered, and didn't look up as the food was brought to the table.  Her hands wrapped around the large cheeseburger and brought it up to her rather sharp teeth that clamped down on the unsuspecting food item and tore a chunk from its side.  The piece of cheeseburger was ground and mashed inside her mouth, and then swallowed.  Patty looked up at Peter as he did the same, only a bit more rapidly.  She chuckled lightly.  "You a little hungry?"  
            Peter looked up just after swallowing a rather large bite, and smiled.  "Only a little."  He then dove back in to tear away another piece of meat and bread.  
            Patty did the same once more, and then took a long sip of root beer before continuing.  
            They continued to eat in silence, and before too long both college students were staring at now empty plates.  Patty finished off her root beer, and looked to Peter.  "Well, that hit the spot."  
            "Yeah.  Sure did."  
            The waitress lumbered over and left off the bill.  Both students dove for their wallets, but Patty had the money on the table faster.  "Really.  I insist."  Her steely gaze caught Peter, and he felt afraid of her, almost terrified.  
            "O...okay."  He spit out, and looked down at the table.  Patty was an odd creature for sure.  One minute she was jovial, and the next she was giving him a look that could split diamonds.  But he had no time to think, as commotion on the street stole his attention.  
            The cries of an elderly woman pierced through the stagnant New York air.  "Help!  My purse!"  A thug shoved his way through the crowd with his square shoulders, chuckling to himself under his black ski mask.  
            Peter looked from the street to Patty.  "I'm sorry, Patty.  But I have to go.  I forgot, I have to help my Aunt Mae with something.  I'll see you tomorrow!"  He grabbed his coat and ran out, nearly knocking over his waitress in the process.  
           Patty arched a brow as Peter ran out, and followed him after leaving payment for the meal on the table.  Something told her that Peter wasn't being entirely truthful.  
            While the thug ran down the street, Peter stood in an alley and pulled his clothing off, revealing the Spiderman costume underneath.  With a yank of his mask, he was fully prepared to capture the thug as the superhero, Spiderman. 


	7. Pensive Thoughts

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  Really, I don't.     
  
Author's Note: Yo yo yo my homies!  Okay, that was lame.  But whatever.  Lala.  I hope this is good.    I'm gonna try to write more often, since it calms me and you guys seem to enjoy it.  Thanks for reading this!     
  


**Chapter 7: Pensive Thoughts**

  
  
              Spiderman emerged from the alley on one strong line of webbing anchored to an overhead lamppost.  He soared over several small children, all of which gasped and pointed at him excitedly.  "Yeah, Spidey!"  "You go, webbed-dude!"  He received many thumbs-up and cheeky grins, all of which caused him to grin under his mask.  
            Red and blue barreled overhead into the blocky form of the mugger.  The large man howled as he fell with the limber Spiderman on his back.  Spidey quickly twisted the purse from the thug's clenched fingers and planted a strong kick on the crook's jaw before webbing him up and hanging him neatly from the nearest lamppost.  
            Patty stood right outside the door to the restaurant she had just come out of, and couldn't help but gape at this masked enforcer of the law.  He was astounding.  A specimen that idealized what this society prized.  He was strong, fast, gifted, and worked to enforce all that humanity had achieved.  So why did that young man on the corner give Spiderman a dirty look as the masked man handed the yellow purse back to the old woman who grinned and gave him a huge hug?  Why was that mother huddling her children away from Spiderman as he turned in their direction to swing away?  _Questions...there's just too many questions...so many questions...all that must be answered..._  She scratched her chin thoughtfully, but eventually just shrugged and walked off.  
            The odd-eyed college student passed a dark alley, not giving it any thought.  But inside that alley was a panting Peter Parker with his Spider-Man costume half-on, half-off.  He froze as Patty passed, but sighed with relief as she passed.  "Okay..." He muttered to himself.  "She doesn't know.  I'll just have to make sure she doesn't see me."  While putting his clothing on, he continued talking to himself.  "But that shouldn't be too hard.  I mean, what's the chance of you running into the person you're trying to avoid in this big city?"  
            With his costume hidden beneath his street clothing, Peter slowly made his way down the streets of New York, doing his best to avoid being trampled by the fast-moving crowds.  
  
              Patty meandered down the sweeping streets, pulling her arms into herself as a quick breeze ran by.  _Hmmm...why do I get such a funny feeling about this Spider-Man?  I mean...he's so wonderfully different yet people seem to not recognize what they're staring at.  Come on, people.  You're looking at a real hero...why can't you see that?  I guess that's what makes us human.  We never accept what's different because we fear seeing a change outside what we're used to.  That's why evolution has been so hard on us.  We always resist change because we've stuck ourselves in our own little ruts.  We like our ruts.  Our ruts are our lives.  Without our ruts, we are nothing._  She sighed and kicked a small rock into a gutter.  _That's right.  Right there, that gutter is my rut.  I live in that gutter day in and day out._  She shuddered.  The thought made her stomach turn upside-down and inside out.  She had to get home.  Her father would want to perform a follow-up on her that night, and that meant that she'd need to take a nap if she didn't want to become a zombie.  Pulling her arms around her thin body tightly, the strange student hurried down the street, not taking her eyes off the concrete before her.  
  
              Peter shuffled down the street, letting his mind wander to his night with Mary Jane.  _Wow...I can't believe she's going to marry me.  It's like a dream.  A good dream, but bad.  I just can't help but think that one day I'm going to wake up and look in the mirror, and realize that MJ isn't real and that all of this has just been one giant fantasy cooked up by some sick-minded criminal bent on destroying Spider-Man._  He shuddered, realizing that the mere thought of this shot fear pangs into his heart.  So he shoved the ideas from his mind and locked them in a small drawer at the back of his brain, somewhere he rarely visited.  
  
              _Damnit._  Patty cursed to herself as the clouds overhead began to leak.  The rain streamed down the sides of the buildings, and down the people as well. _ Just my luck...I really need to get a car.  She sighed and continued walking, or shuffling rather.  This sucks.  The weather bites, I have a long walk ahead of me, and..._  She was interrupted from her thoughts by a sharp cry that was quickly muffled.  Though her head told her to keep walking, her body took action and sent her running into the alley where the scream had started.  
            Patty found herself facing several street-punks, all her age and older, huddled around a 16-year-old girl with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a beyond-her-age good figure.  The tallest punk stepped forward, thumping a wrench against his outstretched right palm.  "Well well.  Looks like we've got another volunteer for our little party."  
            The young girl's eyes widened in fear, and Patty could see herself reflected in those large hazel eyes.  Her own reflection made her wince, though she didn't know why.  But she couldn't concentrate on this girl.  Right now, she'd have to convince this dolt that she wasn't around to be a gang-rape toy.  "Actually, I just came to chaperone.  You know.  Make sure things didn't get too rough."  She cracked her knuckles, which caused the men to laugh.  
            "Oh lookit what we've got here.  This hot little number thinks she's gonna break up our little get-together.  Well, we'll just show her what we're made of, won't we boys?"  He grinned and motioned to his goons to surround Patty.  
            _Oh shit.  Oh fuckety-fuck fuck fuck shit-pile.  This isn't good.  Why am I getting myself into these situations?  Why?_  She crouched slightly, and got a good look at the three men surrounding her.  _Okay.  There are five of 'em.  Three around me, the Master of Ceremonies, as he seems to be, and the guy holding that poor girl.  Okay.  Just gotta get rid of these goons, take on the main man, kick around the hostage-taker, and voila the girl is free.  Sounds simple enough.  Now I just gotta follow through..._  She gulped once, and then prepared herself for a fight. 


	8. Rescue

Disclaimer: OMG LOOKIT ME NOT OWNING STUFF! Spider-Man and all related characters are copyright Marvel.  
  
Author's Note: Hey! I'm glad people still read this thing. And now, for the fight scene! But, as you can easily tell, I stink at those! I shall get better, I hope. --;;  
  


**Chapter 8: Rescue**

  
  
Patty gulped once as the shorter goon charged for her, and threw a hard uppercut to her jaw. She had tried to back away from the punch, and as a result her head snapped back with the motion of the shorter guy's fist. Recovering quickly, the odd-eyed college student followed her body's motion backwards and turned the fall into a back handspring. After landing on her feet in a crouch, the other two thugs descended on her.  
  
The thug closest to her pulled out a short knife and brandished it, slicing it up through the material of her two shirts and skin on her stomach. She grunted and looked down at the open slash wound peeking out from under her shirts, and winced as she felt her skin bubble and surge together to erase the slash painfully from existence. The thugs stared at her, and the most vocal of the group ventured the question on everybody's minds. "What the fuck are you?"  
  
Patty grinned. "I'm unique." She rushed forward and shoulder-butted the man with the knife, stealing the knife from his possession and holding it in her left hand. She began lashing out with her new weapon, drawing streaks of blood left and right but taking a beauty's batch of punches in the process. Her jaw rattled from a recent right hook, and she stumbled back into the wall a few feet from the ringleader. As he was about to try to hold her down, she wrapped her arms around his waist and, with much arm-straining effort, threw the wriggling and cursing man into the others. They fell backwards, grunting with the effort of escaping their leader's bulk, while the leader had knocked his head on the ground and was now out cold.  
  
Patty wiped a spot of blood from her cheek, the cut that bled it being long gone. She advanced on the ground-bound thugs, holding her knife high above her head like a stereotypical serial killer, causing the three young men to shake and cry out. But she merely tossed the knife aside, preferring to use her foot to strike the heads of the thugs until they too had fallen into unconsciousness.  
  
The college student turned on the one holding the younger girl, clicking her tongue. His eyes widened as she stooped to pick up the wrench that his leader had dropped, and thumped it against her hand. The rain streamed down her head and back, pounding the ground in sheets. The last thug member whimpered and attempted to run, but was met with the wrench in the center of his forehead. As he froze in shock, Patty kneed him in the groin, and pulled back quickly to perform a roundhouse kick to his head that caused him to crumple to the ground.  
  
After inspecting each fallen young man to be sure they didn't need emergency care (well, they did, but she didn't really care other than the fact that at least most of them would survive), she looked over to the girl. Patty was hunched over her latest knockout, her odd eyes piercing through her dark hair now plastered to her pale face. She looked like a demon, a soul-eater more specifically. "You alright?" She called out through the pouring rain, having to raise her voice to be heard over the deafening sounds of the raindrops panging against the gutters of the buildings above.  
  
The girl whimpered, rubbing her wrists gently as she crossed the alley to Patty. She placed a hand on the older girl's shoulder, trying to get a good look at her rescuer.  
  
Patty arched a skeptical brow as she stood, bringing the girl up with her. "What?"  
"I...I just...I always thought Spiderman was a woman..." She smiled brightly.  
  
Patty froze. Spiderman? Her? It was impossible, and rather ludicrous besides. "Erm, I hate to break it to you, but...I'm not Spiderman."  
  
The girl giggled. "Don't worry, I won't tell anybody."  
  
"No...really...you honestly think that guy in spandex could be me? I couldn't even fit into the spandex suit." She laughed almost nervously.  
  
The girl thought for a moment. "No...I guess not...I mean, you're not fat or anything." She backpedaled quickly, because it was true. Patty was lanky and thin, and rather strong, as she had displayed. "But it's just...I guess Spiderman has to be male. He's rather stubborn, right?" The girl laughed, some of the rainwater spilling into her open mouth without her notice.  
  
Patty nodded with a bit of a smile. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." She looked around the alley. "Well, it's about 2:30 now." She mentally applauded herself for getting a waterproof watch. "Were you heading anywhere, or what?"  
  
The girl shook her head, her eyes training on Patty's face. A few minutes ago, the older girl's face had been covered in an array of cuts and quick-forming bruises, and now it was good as new. She then looked down, unconsciously pulling at Patty's shirt to see the site of the large knife gouge.  
  
Patty's eyes widened, and she quickly backed up, pulling her bloodstained shirt and torso away from the girl. "What? Is my skin that fascinating?" She snapped, rather defensively.  
  
The girl whimpered an apology. "I'm sorry...it's just...you were hurt...and now you're fine...what's that about...?"  
  
Patty sighed. Great, she'd have to come up with a good lie about this. "Well, if you eat a lot of Vitamin K, you heal very quickly."  
The girl's brow arched. "Really? You'll heal in seconds? That's not possible..."  
  
"Errr...of course it is. I'm living proof!" Patty stated rather harshly, causing the girl to recoil fearfully. "Oh...sorry...I'm just a little touchy about that...I mean, you saw how my wounds closed up like that. You saw me do that to those guys..." She gestured through the curtains of rain to the fallen thugs. "I'm just...a bit nervous...since...well....what I just did...it isn't exactly normal." She smiled nervously, scratching the back of her neck with her right hand.  
  
The girl giggled. "Don't worry. I didn't see anything." She furrowed her brows. "Thank you." She stated honestly, sincerely. "I guess I didn't thank you yet. So thank you. I don't want to think about what would have happened to me if you hadn't showed up." She wrapped the older girl in a swift hug, and grinned as she pulled back. "Y'know, you should talk to Spidey. You two would work wonders together." With that, she dashed from the alley, and Patty never saw her again. 


End file.
